Shiver
by Crystal-Wolf-Guardain-967
Summary: And when I opened  my eyes and it was just Sakura and me-nothing anywhere but Sakura and me-she pressing her lips together as though she were keeping my kiss inside her, and me holding this moment that was as fragile as a bird in my hands.
1. Chapter One Sakura

i don't own naruto or the book shiver.

Chapter One – Sakura

15*

I remember lying in the snow, a small red spot of warm going cold, surrounded by wolves. They were licking me, biting me, worrying at my body, pressing in. their huddled bodies blocked what little heat the sun offered. Ice glistened on their ruffs and their breath made opaque shapes that hung in the air around us. The musky smell of their coats made think of wet dog and burning leaves, pleasant and terrifying. Their tongues melted my skin; their careless teeth ripped at my sleeves and snagged through my hair, pushed against my collarbone, the pulse at my neck

I could have screamed, but I didn't. I could have fought, but I didn't. I just lay there and let it happen, watching winter-white sky go gray above me.

One wolf prodded his nose into my hand and against my cheek, casting a shadow across my face. His red eyes looked into mine while the other wolves jerked me this way and that.

I held on to those eyes for as long as I could. Red. And, up close, flecked brilliantly with every shade of Red and hazel. I didn't want to look away, and he didn't. I wanted to reach out and grab a hold of his ruff, but my hands stayed curled on my chest, my arms frozen to my body.

I couldn't remember what it felt like to be warm.

Then he was gone, and without him, the other wolves closed in, too close, suffocating. Something seemed to flutter in my chest.

There was no sun; there was no light. I was dying. I couldn't remember what the sky looked like.

But I didn't die. I was lost to a sea of cold, and then I was reborn into a world of warmth.

I remember this: his red eyes.

I thought I'd never see them again.

Thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed it. There will be more to come. Please leave a review but no flames please, if you do its ok because everyone has their own opinion. So how do you like it so far?

Sincerely yours,

Crystal-Wolf-Guarian-967


	2. Chapter Two Sasuke

Chapter Two – Sasuke

15*

They snatched the girl off her tire swing in the backyard and dragged her into the woods; her body made a shallow track in the snow, from her world to mine. I saw it happen. I didn't stop it.

It had been the longest, coldest winter of my life. Day after day under a pale, worthless sun. And the hunger-hunger that burned and gnawed, an insatiable master. That month nothing moved, the landscape frozen into a colorless diorama devoid of life. One of us had been shot trying to steal trash off someone's back step, so the rest of the pack stayed in the woods and slowly starved, waiting for warmth and our old bodies. Until they found the girl. Until they attacked.

They crouched around her, snarling and snapping, fighting to tear into the kill first.

I saw it. I saw their flanks shuddering with their eagerness. I saw them tug the girl's body this way and that, wearing away the snow beneath her. I saw muzzles smeared with red. Still, I didn't stop it.

I was high up in the pack-Beck and Paul had made sure of that- so I could've moved in immediately, but I hung back, trembling with the cold, up to my ankles in snow. The girl smelled warm, alive, human above all else. What was wrong with her? If she was alive, why wasn't she struggling?

I could smell her blood, a warm, bright scent in this dead, cold world. I saw Salem jerk and tremble as he ripped at her clothing. My stomach twisted, painful-it had been so long since I'd eaten. I wanted to push through the wolves to stand next to Salem and pretend that I couldn't smell her humanness or hear her moans. She was so little underneath our wildness, the pack pressing against her, wanting to trade her life for ours.

With a snarl and a flash of teeth, I pushed forward. Salem growled back at me, but I was rangier than him, despite my starvation and youth. Paul rumbled threateningly to back me up.

I was next to her, and she was looking up at the endless sky with distant eyes. Maybe dead. I pushed my nose into her hand; the scent on her palm, all sugar and butter and salt, reminded me of another life.

Then I saw her eyes.

Awake. Alive.

The girl looked right at me, eyes holding mine with such terrible honesty.

I backed up, recoiled, starting to shake again-but this time, it wasn't anger that racked my frame.

Her eyes on my eyes. Her blood on my face.

I was tearing apart, inside and outside.

Her life.

My life.

The pack fell back from me, wary. They growled at me, no longer one of them, and they snarled over their prey. I thought she was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen, a tiny, bloody angel in the snow, and they were going to destroy her.

I saw it, in a way I'd never seen anything before.

And I stopped it.

Thanks for reading. I hoped you enjoyed it. Please review but no flames please.

Sincerely yours,

Crytsla-Wolf-Guardian-967


	3. Chapter Three Sakura

Chapter Three – Sakura

38*

I saw him again after that, always in the cold. He stood at the edge of the woods in our backyard, his red eyes steady on me as I filled the bird feeder or took out the trash, but he never came close. In between day and night, a time that lasted forever in the long Minnesota winter, I would cling to the frozen tire until I felt his gaze. Or, later, when I'd outgrown the awing, I'd step off the back deck and quietly approach him, hand forward, palm up, eyes lowered. No threat. I was trying to speak his language.

But no matter how long I waited, no matter how hard I tried to reach him, he would always melt into the undergrowth before I could cross the distance between us.

I was never afraid of him. He was large enough to tear me from my swing, strong enough to knock me down and drag me into the woods. But the ferocity of his body wasn't in his eyes. I remembered his gaze, every hue of red, and I couldn't be afraid. I knew he wouldn't hurt me.

I wanted him to know I wouldn't hurt him.

I waited. And waited.

And he waited, too, though I didn't know what he was waiting for, it felt like I was the only one reaching out.

But he was always there. Watching me watching him. Never any closer to me, but never any further away, either.

And so it was an unbroken pattern for six years: the wolves' haunting presence in the winter and their even more haunting absence in the summer. I didn't really think about the timing. I thought they were wolves.

Only wolves.

Thanks for reading. Please review and no flames please.

Sincerely yours,

Crystal-Wolf-Guardian-967


	4. Chapter Four Sasuke

Chapter Four – Sasuke

90*

The day I nearly talked to Sakura was the hottest day of my life. Even in the bookstore, which was air-conditioned, the heat crept in around the door and came in through the big picture windows in waves. Behind the counter, I slouched on my stool in the sun and sucked in the summer as if I could hold every drop of it inside me. As the hours crept by, the afternoon sunlight bleached all the books on the shelves to pale, gilded versions of themselves and warmed the paper and ink inside the covers so that the smell of unread words hung in the air.

This was what I loved, when I was human.

I was reading when the door opened with a little _ding, _admitting a stifling rush of hot air and a group of girls. They were laughing too loudly to need my help, so I kept reading and let them jostle along the walls and talk about everything except books.

I don't think I would've given the girls a second thought, except that at the edge of my vision I saw one of them sweep up her dark blonde hair and twist it into a long ponytail. The action itself was insignificant, but the movement sent a gasp of scent into the air. I recognized that smell. I knew immediately.

It was her. It had to be.

I jerked my book up toward my face and risked a glimpse in the girl's direction. The other two were still talking and gesturing at a paper bird I'd hung from the ceiling above the children's book section. She wasn't talking though; she hung back, her eyes on books all around her. I saw her face then, and I recognized something of myself in her expression. Her eyes flickered over the shelves, seeking possibilities for escape.

I had planned a thousand different versions of this scene in my head, but now that the moment had come, I didn't know what to do.

She was so real here. It was different when she was in her backyard, just reading a book or scribbling homework in a notebook. There, the distance between us was an impossible void;I felt all the reasons to stay away. Here, in the bookstore, with me, she seemed breathtakingly close in a way she hadn't before. There was nothing to stop me from talking to her.

Her gaze headed in my direction, and I looked away hurriedly, down at my book. She wouldn't recognize me my face but she would recognize my eyes. I had to believe she would recognize my eyes.

I prayed for her to leave so I could breathe again.

I prayed for her to buy a book so I would have a reason to talk to her.

One of the girls called, "Sakura, come over here and look at this. _Making the Grade: Getting into the Collage of Your Dreams-_that sounds good, right?"

I sucked in a slow breath and watched her long sunlit back as she crouched and looked at the SAT prep books with the other girls. There was a certain tilt to her shoulders that seemed to indicate only polite interest; she nodded as they pointed to other books, but she seemed distracted. I watched the way the sunlight streamed through the windows, catching the individual flyaway hairs in her ponytail and turning each one into a shimmering gold strand. Her head moved almost imperceptibly back and forth with the rhythm of the music playing overhead.

"Hey."

I jerked back as a face appeared before me. Not Sakura. One of the other girls, dark-haired and tanned. She had a huge camera slung over her shoulder and she was looking right at my eyes. She didn't say anything, but I knew what she was thinking. Reactions to my eye color ranged from furtive glances to out-and-out staring; at least she was being honest about it.

"Do you mind if I take your photo?" she asked.

I cast around for an excuse. "Some native people think if you take their photo, you take their soul. It sounds like a very logical argument to me, so sorry, no pictures." I shrugged apologetically. "You can take photos of the store if you like."

The third girl pushed up against the camera girl: bushy light brown hair, tremendously freckled and radiating so much energy that she exhausted me. "Flirting Ino? We don't have time for that. Here dude, we'll take this one."

I took _Making the Grade _from her, sparing a quick glance around for Sakura.

"Nineteen dollars and ninety-nine cents," I said.

My heart was pounding.

"For a paperback?" remarked the freckle girl, but she handed me a twenty. "Keep the penny." We didn't have a penny jar, but I put it on the counter next to the register. I bagged the book and receipt slowly, thinking Sakura might come over to see what was taking so long.

But she stayed in the biography section, head tipped to the side as she read the spines. The freckle girl took the bag and grinned at me and Ino. Then they went to Sakura and herded her toward the door.

_Turn around Sakura. Look at me, I'm standing right here. _If she turned right now, she'd see my eyes, and she'd have to know me.

Freckle girl opened the door--- _ding _--- and made an impatient sound to the rest of the herd: time to move along. Ino turned briefly, and her eyes at them—at Sakura—but I couldn't stop.

Ino frowned and ducked out of the store. Freckle girl said, "Sakura come _on_."

My chest ached, my body speaking a language my head didn't quite understand.

I waited.

But Sakura, the only person in the world I wanted to know me, just ran a wanting finger over the cover of one of the new hard covers and walked out the store without ever realizing I was there, right within reach.

Thanks for reading. I hoped you liked it. Please review and no flames. I will continue to do my best for my readers and to continue to update my stories so you all can read them.

Sincerely yours,

Crystal-Wolf-Guardian-967


	5. Author Note

!Author's Note!

I am sorry I haven't written anything in so long but I am trying my best to find a working computer, so I took my mom's Acer laptop. Mine is well kind of broken down for the moment until I get it fixed yet again. I just wanted to say I made a tiny little error in this story. I left the word yellow in when I meant to change it to red so I will try to fix it ASAP.

-Crystal-Wolf-Guardain-967


	6. Chapter Five Sakura

Chapter Five – Sakura

44* F

I didn't realize that the wolves in the wood were all werewolves until Garaa Sabaku was killed.

September of my junior year, when it happened, Garaa was all anybody in our small town could talk about. It wasn't as though Garaa had been this amazing kid when he was alive – apart from owning the most expensive car in the parking lot, principal's car included. Actually, he'd been kind of a jerk. But when he was killed – instant sainthood. With a gruesome and sensational undertow, because of the way it had happened. Within five days of his death, I'd heard a thousand versions of the story in the School halls.

The upshot was this: Everyone was terrified of the wolves now.

Because mom didn't usually watch the news and dad was terminally not home, the communal anxiety trickled down to our household slowly, taking a few days to really gain momentum. My incident with the wolves had faded from my mother's mind over the past six years, replaced by turpentine fumes complementary colors, but Garaa's attack seemed to refresh it perfectly.

Far be it from mom to funnel her growing anxiety into something logical like spending more quality time with her only daughter, the one who had been attacked by wolves in the first place. Instead, she just used it to become even more scatter-brained than usual.

"Mom, do you need some help making dinner?"

My mother looked guiltily at me, turning her attention from the television that she could just see back to the mushrooms she was obliterating on the cutting board.

"It was so close to here. Where they found him," Mom said, pointing toward the television with the knife. The news anchor looked insincerely sincere as a map of our county appeared next to a blurry photo of a wolf in the upper right corner of the screen. The hunt for the truth, he said, continued. You'd think that after a week of reporting the same story over and over again, they'd at least get their simple facts straight. Their photo wasn't even the same species as my wolf, with his stormy gray coat and tawny red eyes. I still can't believe it," Mom went on. "Just on the other side of Boundary Wood. That's where he was killed."

"Or died."

Mom frowned at me, delicately frazzled and beautiful as usual. "What?"

I looked back up from my homework – comforting, orderly lines of numbers and symbols. "He could've just passed out by the side of the road and been dragged into the woods while he was unconscious. It's not the same. You can't just go around trying to cause a panic."

Mom's attention had wandered back to the screen as she chopped the mushrooms into pieces small enough for amoeba consumption. She shook her head. "They _attacked_ him. Sakura."

I glanced out the window at the woods, the pale lines of the trees phantoms against the dark. If my wolf was out there, I couldn't see him. "Mom, you're the one who told me over and over and _over _again: Wolves are usually peaceful."

_Wolves are peaceful creatures. _This had been Mom's refrain for years. I think the only way she could keep living in this house was by convincing herself of the wolves' relative harmlessness and insisting that my attack was a one-time event. I don't know if she really believed that they were peaceful, but I did. Gazing into the woods, I'd watched the wolves every year of my life, memorizing their faces and their personalities. Sure, there was the lean, sickly-looking brindle wolf who hung well back in the woods, only visible in the coldest of months. Everything about – him his dull scraggly coat, his notched ear, his one foul running eye –shouted an ill body, and the rolling whites of his wild eyes whispered of a diseased mind. I remembered his teeth grazing my skin. I could imagine him attacking a human in the woods again.

And there was the white she-wolf. I had read the wolves mated for life, and I'd seen her with the pack leader, a heavyset wolf that was black as she was white. I'd watched him nose her muzzle and lead her through the skeleton trees, fur flashing like fish in water. She had a sort of savage, restless beauty to her; I could imagine her attacking a human, too. But the rest of them? They were silent, beautiful ghosts in the woods. I didn't fear them.

"Right, peaceful." Mom hacked at the cutting board. "Maybe they should just trap them all and dump them in Canada or something."

I frowned at my homework. Summers without my wolf were bad enough. As a child, those months had seemed impossibly long, just time spent waiting for the wolves to reappear. They'd only gotten worse after I noticed my red-eyed wolf. During those long moths, I had imagined great adventures where I became a wolf by night and ran away with my wolf to a golden wood where it never snowed. I knew now that the golden wood didn't exist, but the pack – and my red-eyed wolf – did.

Sighing, I pushed my math book across the kitchen table and joined Mom at the cutting board. "Let me do it. You're just messing it up."

She didn't protest, and I hadn't expected her to. Instead, she rewarded me with a smile and whirled away as if she'd been waiting for me to notice the pitiful job she was doing. "If you finish making dinner," she said, "I'll love you forever."

I made a face and took the knife from her. Mom was permanently paint-spattered and absentminded. She would never be my friends' moms: apron-wearing, meal-cooking, vacuuming, Betty Crocker. I didn't really want her to be like them. But seriously – I needed to get my homework done.

"Thanks, sweetie. I'll be in the studio." If Mom had been one of those dolls that say five or six different things when you push their tummy that would've been one of her prerecorded phrases.

"Don't pass out from the fumes," I told her, but she was already running up the stairs. Shoving the mutilated mushrooms into a bowl, I looked at the clock hanging on the bright red wall. Still an hour until Dad would be home from work. I had plenty of time to make dinner and maybe, afterward, to try to catch a glimpse of my wolf.

There was some sort of cut beef in the fridge that was probably supposed to go with the mangled mushrooms. I pulled it out and slapped it on the cutting board. In the background, an "expert" on the news asked whether the wolf population in Minnesota should be limited or moved. The whole thing just put me in a bad mood.

The phone rang. "Hello"

"Hiya. What's up?"

Hinata. I was glad to hear from her; she was the exact opposite of my mother – totally organized and great on follow-through. She made me feel less like an alien. I shoved the phone between my ear and my shoulder and chopped the beef as I talked, saving a piece the size of my fist for later. "Just making dinner and watching the stupid news."

She knew immediately what I was talking about. "I know. Talk about surreal, right? It seems like they just can't get enough of it. It's kind of gross, really – I mean, why can't they just shut up and let us get over it? Its bad enough going to school and hearing about it all the time. And you with the wolves and everything, it's got to be really bothering you – and seriously, Garaa's parents have got to be just wanting the reporters to shut up." Hinata was babbling so fast I could barely understand her. I missed a bunch of what she said in the middle, and then she asked, "Has Ino called tonight?"

Ino was the third side of our trio, the only one who came anywhere near understanding my fascination with the wolves. It was a rare night when I didn't talk to either her or Hinata by phone. "She's probably out shooting photos. Isn't there a meteor shower tonight?" I said. Ino saw the world through her camera; half of my school memories seemed to be in four-by-six-inch glossy black-and-white form.

Hinata said, "I think you're right. Ino will definitely want a piece of that hot asteroid action. Got a moment to talk?"

I glanced at the clock. "Sorta. Just while I finish up dinner, then I have homework."

"Okay. Just a second then. Two words, baby, try them out: _es. Cape._"

I started the beef browning on the stove top. "That's one word, Hina-chan."

She paused. "Yeah. It sounded better in my head. Anyway, so here's the thing: My parents said if I want to go someplace over Christmas break this year, they'll pay for it. I so want to go somewhere. Anywhere but Konhoa. God, _anywhere_ but Konhoa! Will you and Ino come over and help me pick something after school tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure."

"If it's someplace really cool, maybe you and Ino could come too," Hinata said.

I didn't answer right away. The word Christmas immediately evoked memories of the scent of our Christmas tree, the dark infinity of the starry December sky above the backyard, and my wolf's eyes watching me from behind the snow-covered trees. No matter how absent he was for the rest of the year, I always had my wolf for Christmas.

Hinata groaned. "Don't do that silent staring-off-into-the-distance-thinking look, Sakura I can tell you're doing it! You can't tell me you don't want to get out of this place!"

I sort of didn't. I sort of belonged here. "I didn't say no," I protested.

"You also didn't say _omigod yes_, either. That's what you were supposed to say." Hinata sighed. "But you will come over, right?"

"You know I will," I said craning my neck to squint out the back window. "Now, I really have to go."

"Yeah yeah yeah," Hinata said. "Bring cookies. Don't forget. Love ya. Bye." She laughed and hung up.

I hurried to get the pot of stew simmering on the stove so it could occupy itself without me. Grabbing my coat from the hooks on the wall, I pulled open the sliding door to the deck.

Cool air bit my cheeks and pinched at the tops of my ears, reminding me that summer was officially over. My stocking cap was stuffed in the pocket of my coat, but I knew my wolf didn't always recognize me when I was wearing it, so I left it off. I squinted at the edge of the yard and stepped off the deck, trying to look nonchalant as I did. The piece of beef in my hand felt cold and slick.

I crunched out across the brittle, colorless grass into the middle of the yard and stopped, momentarily dazzled by the violent pink of the sunset through the fluttering black leaves of the trees. This stark landscape was a world away from the small, warm kitchen with its comforting smells of easy survival.

Where I was supposed to belong. Where I should've wanted to be. But the trees called to me, urging me to abandon what I knew and vanish into the oncoming night. It was a desire that had been tugging me with disconcerting frequency these days.

The darkness at the edge of the wood shifted, and I saw my wolf standing beside a tree, nostrils sniffing toward the meat in my hand. My relief at seeing him was cut short as he shifted his head, letting the red square of light from the sliding door fall across his face. I could see now that his chin was crusted with old, dried blood. Days old.

His nostrils worked; he could smell the bit of beef in my hand. Either the beef or the familiarity of my presence was enough to lure him a few steps out of the wood. Then a few steps more. Closer than he'd been before.

I faced him, near enough that I could have reached out and touched his dazzling fur. Or brushed the deep red stain on his muzzle.

I badly wanted that blood to be his. An old cut or scratch earned in a scuffle.

But it didn't look like that. It looked like it belonged to someone else.

"Did you kill him?" I whispered.

He didn't disappear at the sound of my voice, as I had expected. He was as still as a statue, his eyes watching my face instead of the meat in my hand.

"It's all they talk about on the news," I said, as if he could understand. "They called it 'savage.' They said wild animals did it. Did _you _do it?"

He stared at me for a minute longer, motionless, and unblinking. And then, for the first time in six years, he closed his eyes. It went against every natural instinct a wolf should have possessed. A lifetime of an unblinking gaze, and now he was frozen in almost-human grief, brilliant eyes closed, head ducked and tail lowered.

It was the saddest thing I had ever seen.

Slowly, barely moving, I approached him, afraid only of scaring him away, not of his scarlet-stained lips or the teeth they hid. His ears flickered, acknowledging my presence, but he didn't move. I crouched, dropping the meat onto the snow beside me. He flinched as it landed. I was close enough to smell the wild odor of his coat and feel his warmth of his breath.

Then I did what I had always wanted to - I put a hand to his dense ruff, and when he didn't flinch, I buried both my hands in his fur. His outer coat was not soft as it looked, but beneath the coarse guard hairs was a layer of downy fluff. With a low groan, he pressed his head against me, eyes still closed. I held him as if he were no more than a family dog, though his wild, sharp scent wouldn't let me forget what he really was.

For a moment, I forgot where – who – I was. For a moment, it didn't matter.

Movement caught my eye: Far off, barely visible in the fading day, the white wolf was watching at the edge of the wood, her eyes burning.

I felt a rumble against my body and I realized my wolf was growling at her. The she-wolf stepped closer, uncommonly bold, and he twisted in my arms to face her. I flinched at the sound of his teeth snapping at her.

She never growled, and somehow that was worse. A wolf should have growled. But she just stared, eyes flickering from him to me, every aspect of her body language breathing hatred.

Still rumbling, almost inaudible, my wolf pressed harder against me, forcing me back a step, then another, guiding me up to the deck. My feet found the steps and I retreated to the sliding door. He remained at the bottom of the stairs until I pushed the door open and locked myself inside the house.

As soon as I was inside, the white wolf darted forward and snatched the piece of meat I'd dropped. Though my wolf was nearest to her and the most obvious threat for the food, it was me that her eyes found, on the other side of the glass door. She held my gaze for a long moment before she slid into the woods like a spirit.

My wolf hesitated by the edge of the woods, the dim porch light catching his eyes. He was still watching my silhouette through the door.

I pressed my palm flat against the frigid glass.

The distance between us had never felt so vast.

_It took me a couple of days to complete this chapter. For the record I don't own anything in this story. I bought the book and waiting for the sequel to shiver which is due to come out in July. Hoped you liked this chapter and I know it was bit long but I enjoyed it. Plz R&R _

_P.S. if there is anything I missed please let me know in a review or a message and no flames in the review/messages. I am working on the next couple of chapters and hope to upload them soon. See ya next time _=)


	7. Authors Note

Author Note

Hey everybody I am back again after a couple of weeks I think but school is fast approaching and its my junior year so I am really excited for no reason at all haha. So like after it starts the 19th of this month I will try to update a.s.a.p. I am going to focus on this story the most for a while cause its really long and then I have to start on the next book as well and I'm not even done reading it yet haha. I am also going to post a character list to help you with the characters and so far it has helped me. Plus I have seen only one person has voted on the poll I set up for the dad issue and so far Dan is in the lead and Jiraya is at a plain zero. So please vote more if you want. Pleas R&R. the more reviews the faster I update my stories and such.

See ya again real soon.

Crystal-Wolf-Guardian-967


	8. Chapter Six Sakura

Chapter Six Sakura

42* F

When my father got home, I was still lost in the silent world of the wolves, imagining again and again the feeling of my wolf's coarse hairs against my palms. Even though I'd reluctantly washed my hands to finish up dinner, his musky scent lingered on my clothing, keeping the encounter fresh in my mind. It had taken six years for him to let me touch him. Hold him. And now he'd guarded me, just like he'd always guarded me. I desperately wanted to tell _somebody, _but I knew Dad wouldn't share my excitement, especially with the newscasters still droning in the background about the attack. I kept my mouth shut.

In the front hall, Dad stomped in. even though he hadn't seen me in the kitchen, he called, "Dinner smells good, Sakura."

He came into the kitchen and patted me on the head. His eyes looked tired behind his glasses, but he smiled. "Where's your mother? Painting?" He chuckled his coat over a chair.

"Does she ever stop?" I narrowed my eyes at his coat. "I know you aren't going to leave that there."

He retrieved it with an affable smile and called up the stairs, "Rags, time for dinner!" His use of Mom's nickname confirmed his good mood.

Mom appeared in the yellow kitchen in two seconds flat. She was out of breath from running down the stairs – she never walked anywhere – and there was a streak of green paint on her cheekbone.

Dad kissed her, avoiding the paint. "Have you been a good, my pet?"

She batted her eyelashes. She had a look on her face like she already knew what he was going to say. "The best."

"And you, Saki?"

"Better than Mom."

Dad cleared his throat. "Ladies and gentlemen, my raise takes effect this Friday. So…"

Mom clapped her hands and whirled in a circle, watching herself in the mirror as she spun. "I'm renting that place downtown!"

Dad grinned and nodded. "And Saki girl, you're trading in your piece of crap car as soon as I find time to go down to the dealership. I'm tired of taking yours into the shop."

Mom laughed, giddy, and clapped her hands again. She danced into the kitchen, chanting some sort of nonsense song. If she rented the studio in town, I'd probably never see either of my parents again. Well, except for dinner. They usually showed up for food.

But that seemed unimportant in comparison to the promise of reliable transportation. "Really? My own car? I mean, one that runs?"

"A slightly less crappy one," Dad promised. "Nothing nice."

I hugged him. A car like that meant freedom.

That night, I lay in my room, eyes squeezed firmly shut, trying to sleep. The world outside my window seemed silenced, as though it had snowed. It was too early for snow, but every sound seemed muffled. Too quiet.

I held my breath and focused on the night, listening for movement in the still darkness.

I slowly became aware that faint clicks had broken the silence outside, pricking at my ears. It sounded for the entire world like toenails on the deck outside my window. Was a wolf on the deck? Maybe a raccoon. Then came softer scrabbling, and a growl – definitely not a raccoon. The hairs rose on the back of my neck.

Pulling my quilt around me like a cape, I climbed out of bed and padded across bare floorboards lit by half a moon. I hesitated, wondering if I'd dreamed the sound, but _tack tack tack _came through the window again. I lifted the blinds and looked out onto the deck. Perpendicular to my room, I could see that the yard was empty. The stark black trunks of the trees jutted like a fence between me and the deeper forest beyond.

Suddenly, a face appeared directly in front of mine, and I jumped with surprise. The white wolf was on the other side of the glass, paws on the outside sill. She was close enough that I could see moisture caught in the banded hairs of her fur. Her jewel-blue eyes glared into mine, challenging me to look away. A low growl rumbled through the glass, and I felt as if I could read meaning into it, as clearly as if it were written on the pane. _You're not his to protect._

I stared back at her. Then, without thinking, I lifted my teeth into a snarl. The growl that escaped from me surprised both me and her, and she jumped down from the window. She cast a dark look over her shoulder at me and peed on the corner of the deck before loping into the woods.

Biting my lips to ease the strange shape of the snarl, I picked up my sweater from the floor and crawled back into bed. Shoving my pillow aside, I balled up the sweater to use instead.

I fell asleep to the scent of my wolf. Pine needles, cold rain, earthy perfume, coarse bristles on my face.

It was almost like he was here.

**There you have it! Chapter Six is up and done! I'm happy what about you guys? It took me a couple of days to type to type this story because school started and I have been doing my homework to keep those grades. And I'm sorry but yes a cliffhanger to keep you guys interested. Haha! **


	9. Chapter Seven Sasuke

**Here is the next chapter for you all. Enjoy!**

Chapter Seven Sasuke

42*

I could still smell her on my fur. It clung to me, a memory of another world.

I was drunk with it, with the scent of her. I'd gotten too close. My instincts warned against it. Especially when I remembered what had just happened to the boy.

The smell of summer on her skin, the half-recalled cadence of her voice, the sensation of her fingers on my fur. Every bit of me sang with the memory of her closeness.

Too close.

I couldn't stay away.

**There you have it. Chapter seven.**

**Please R&R!**


	10. Chapter Eight Sakura

Chapter Eight Sakura

65* F

For the next week, I was distracted in school, floating through my classes and barely taking notes. All I could think of was the feel of my wolf's fur under my fingers and the image of the white wolf's snarling face outside my window. I snapped to attention, however, when Rin led a policeman into the classroom and to the front of our Life Skills Class.

She left him alone at the front of the classroom, which I thought was pretty cruel, considering it was seventh period and most of us were restlessly anticipating escape. Maybe she thought that a member of the law enforcement could handle mere high school students. But criminals you can shoot, unlike a room full of juniors who won't shut up.

"Hi," the officer said. Beneath a gun belt that bristled with holsters and pepper sprays and other assorted weaponry, he looked _young._ He glanced toward Rin, who hovered unhelpfully in the open door of the classroom, and fingered the shiny name tag on his shirt: Kakashi Hatake. Rin had told us that he was a graduate of our fine high school, but neither his name nor his face looked particularly familiar to me. "I'm Officer Hatake. Your teacher – Rin – asked me last week if I'd come and talk to her Life Skills Class."

I glanced over at Ino in the seat next to me to see what she was making of this. As usual, everything about Ino looked neat and tidy: straight-A report card made flesh. Her dark hair was plaited in a perfect French braid and her collared shirt was freshly pressed. You could never tell what Ino was thinking by her mouth. It was her eyes you had to look at.

"He's cute," Ino whispered to me. "Love the silver hair. Do you think his mom calls him 'Kashi'?"

I hadn't yet figured out how to respond to Ino's new-found and very vocal interest in guys, so I just rolled my eyes. He was cute, but not my type. I didn't think I knew what my type was yet.

"I became an officer of the law right after high school," Officer Will said. He looked very serious as he said it, frowning in a sort of _serve-and-protect _way. "It's a profession I always wanted to pursue and one I take very seriously."

"Clearly," I whispered to Ino. I didn't think his mother called him Kashi. Kakashi Hatake shot a look at us and rested a hand on his gun. I guess it was a habit, but it looked like he was considering shooting us for whispering. Ino disappeared into her seat and a few of the other girls giggled.

"It's an excellent career path and one of the few that doesn't require college yet," he pressed on. "Are - uh - any of you considering going into law enforcement?"

It was the _uh _that did him in. if he hadn't hesitated, I think the class might have behaved.

A hand whipped up. Karin, one of the hordes of Konhoa High students still wearing black since Garra's death, asked, "Is it true that Garra Subaku's Body was stolen from the morgue?"

The class erupted in whispers at her audacity, and Officer Hatake looked as if he really did have due cause to shoot her. But all he said was, "I'm not really authorized to talk about the details of any ongoing investigations."

"It's an investigation?" a male voice called out from near the front.

Karin interrupted, "My mom heard it from a dispatcher. Is it true? Why would someone steal a body?"

Theories flew in quick succession.

"It's got to be a cover-up. For a suicide."

"To smuggle drugs!"

"Medical experimentation!"

Some guy said, "I heard Garra's dad has a stuffed polar bear in his house. Maybe the Subakus stuffed Garra, too." Someone took a swat at the guy who made the last comment; it was still taboo to say anything bad about Garra or his family.

Officer Hatake looked at Rin, who stood in the open door of the classroom. She regarded him solemnly and then turned to the class. "_Quiet Down!"_

We quieted down.

She turned back to Officer Hatake. "So was his body stolen?" she asked.

He said again, "I'm not really authorized to discuss details of any ongoing investigations." But this time, he sounded more helpless, like there might be a question mark at the end of his sentence.

"Officer Hatake," Rin said. "Garra was well loved in this community."

Which was a patent lie. But being dead had done wonders for his reputation. I guess everyone else could forget the way he'd lose his temper in the middle of the hall or even during class. And just what those tempers looked like. But I hadn't. Konhoa was all about rumors, and the rumor on Garra was that he got his short fuse from his dad. I didn't know about that. It seemed like you ought to pick the sort of person you would be, no matter what your parents were like.

"We are still mourning," Rin added, gesturing to the sea of black in the classroom. "This is not about giving closure to a close-knit community."

Ino mouthed at me: "Oh. My. God." I shook my head. Amazing.

Officer Hatake crossed his arms over his chest; it made him look petulant, like a little kid being forced to do something. "It's true. We're looking into it. I understand the loss of someone so young" - this from someone who looked maybe twenty - "has a huge impact on the community, but I ask that everyone respect the privacy of the family and the confidentiality of the investigation process."

He was getting back on firm footing here.

Karin waved her hand again. "Do you think the wolves are dangerous? Do you get lots of calls about them? My mom said you got lots of calls about them."

Officer Hatake looked at Rin, but he should have figured out by now that she wanted to know just as much as Karin did. "I don't think the wolves are a threat to the populace, no. I - and the rest of the department - feel this was an isolated incident."

Karin said, "But she got attacked, too."

Oh, lovely. I couldn't see Karin pointing, but I knew she was, because everyone's faces turned towards me. I bit the inside of my lip. Not because the attention bothered me, but because every time someone remembered I was dragged from my tire swing, they remembered it could happen to anyone. And I wondered how many someones it would take before they decided to go after the wolves.

To go after my wolf.

I knew this was the real reason why I couldn't forgive Garra for dying. In between that and his checkered history at the school, it felt hypocritical to go into public mourning along with the rest of the school. It didn't feel right to ignore it, either, though; I wished I knew what I was supposed to be feeling.

"That was a long time ago, I told Officer Hatake, and he looked relieved as I added, "Years. And it might have been dogs."

So I was lying. Who was going to contradict me?

"Exactly," Officer Hatake said emphatically. "Exactly. There's no point vilifying wild animals for a random incident. And there's no point creating panic when it's not warranted. Panic leads to carelessness, and carelessness creates accidents."

My thoughts precisely. I felt a vague kinship with humorless Officer Hatake as he steered the conversation back to careers in law enforcement. After class was over, the other students started talking about Garra again, but Ino and I escaped to our lockers.

I felt a tug on my hair and turned to see Hinata standing behind me, looking mournfully at both of us. "Babes, I have to rain check on vacation planning this afternoon. Step-freak has demanded a family bonding trip to the mountains. If she wants me to love her, she's going to have to buy me new shoes. Can we get together tomorrow or something?"

I had barely nodded before Hinata flashed both of us a big smile and surged off through the hall.

"Want to hang out at my place instead?" I asked Ino. It still felt weird to ask. In middle school, she and Hinata and I had hung out every day, a wordless ongoing agreement. Somehow it had sort of changed after Hinata got her first boyfriend, leaving Ino and me behind, the geek and the disinterested, and fracturing our easy friendship.

"Sure," Ino said, grabbing her stuff to follow me down the hall. She pinched her elbow. "Look." She pointed to Temari, Garra's younger sister, a classmate of ours with more than her fair share of the Subaku good looks, complete with a cherubic head of blonde curls. She drove white SUV and had one of those handbag Chihuahuas that she dressed to match her outfits. I always wondered when she would notice that she lived in Konhoa, Minnesota, where people just didn't do that kind of thing.

At the moment, Temari was staring into her locker as if it contained other worlds. Ino said, "She's not wearing black."

Temari snapped out of her trance and glared at us as if she realized we were talking about her. I looked away quickly, but I still felt her eyes on me.

"Maybe she's not in mourning anymore," I said, after we'd gotten out of earshot.

Ino opened the door for me. "Maybe she's the only one who ever was."

Back at my house, I made coffee and cranberry scones for us, and we sat at the kitchen table looking at a stack of Ino's latest photos under the yellow ceiling light. To Ino, photography was a religion; she worshipped her camera and studied the techniques as if they were rules to live by. Seeing her photos, I was almost willing to a become a believer, too. She made you feel as though you were right there in the scene.

"He _was _really cute. You can't tell me he wasn't," she said.

"Are you still talking about Officer NO-Smile? What is wrong with you?" I shook my head and shuffled to the next photo. "I've never seen you obsess over a _real_ person."

Ino grinned and leaned at me over a steaming mug. Taking a bite of scone, she spoke around a mouthful, covering her mouth to keep from spraying me with crumbs. "I think I'm turning into one of those girls who likes uniformed types. Oh, c'mon, you didn't think he was cute? I'm feeling … I'm feeling the boyfriend urge. We should order pizza sometime. Hinata told me there's a really cute pizza boy."

I rolled my eyes again. "All of a sudden you want a boyfriend?"

Ino didn't look up from the photos, but I got the idea she was paying lot of attention to my response. "You don't?"

I mumbled, "When the right guy comes along, I guess."

"How will you know if you don't look?"

"As if you ever had the guts to talk to a guy. Other than your Kibany Deep Poster." My voice had gotten more combative than I'd intended; I added a laugh at the end to soften the effect. Ino's eyebrows drew closer to each other, but she didn't say anything. For a long time we sat in silence, paging through her photos.

I lingered on a close-up shot of me, Ino, and Hinata together; her mother had come outside to take it right before school started. Hinata, her freckled face contorted into a wild smile, had one arm firmly wrapped around Ino's shoulders and the other around mine; it looked like she was squeezing us into the frame. Like always, she was the glue that held our threesome together: the outgoing one who made sure us quiet ones stuck together through the years.

In the photo, Ino seemed to belong in the summer, with her olive skin bronzed and green eyes saturated with color. Her teeth made a perfect crescent moon smile for the photo, dimples and all. Newt to the two of them, I was the embodiment of winter - dark blonde hair and serious brown eyes, a summer girl faded by cold. I used to think Ino and I were so similar, both introverts permanently buried in books. But now I realized my seclusion was self-inflicted and Ino was just painfully shy. This year, it felt like the more time we spent together, the harder it was to stay friends.

"I looked stupid in that one," Ino said. "Hinata looks insane. And you look angry."

I looked like someone who wouldn't take no for an answer - petulant, almost. I liked it. "You don't look stupid. You look like a princess and I look like and ogre."

"You don't look like an ogre."

"I was bragging," I told her.

"And Hinata?"

"No, you called it. She does look insane. Or at least highly caffeinated, as per usual." I looked at the photo again. Really, Hinata looked like a sun, bright and exuding energy, holding us two moons in parallel orbit by the sheer force of her will.

"Did you see that one?" Ino interrupted my thoughts to point at another one of the photos. It was my wolf, deep in the woods, halfway hidden behind a tree. But she'd managed to a little sliver of his face perfectly in focus, and his eyes stared right into mine. "You can keep that one. In fact, keep the whole stack. We can put the good ones in a book next time."

"Thanks," I replied, and meant it more than I could say. I pointed at the picture. "This is from last week?"

She nodded. I stared at the photo of him - breathtaking, but flat and inadequate in comparison to the real thing. I lightly ran my thumb over it, as if I'd feel his fur. Something knotted in my chest, bitter and sad. I felt Ino's eyes on me, and they only made me feel worse, more alone. Once upon a time I would've talked to her about it, but now it felt too personal. Something had changed - and I thought it was me.

Ino handed me a slender stack of prints that she'd separated from the rest. "This is my brag pile."

Distracted, I paged through them slowly. They were impressive: a fall leaf floating on a puddle, students reflected in the windows of a school bus, an artfully smudgy black-and-white self-portrait of Ino. I _oohed _and _aahed _and then slid the photo of my wolf back on top of them to look at it again.

Ino made a sort of irritated sound in the back of her throat.

I hurriedly shuffled back to the one of the leaf floating on the puddle. I frowned at it for a moment, trying to imagine the sort of thing Mom would say about a piece of art. I managed, "I like this one. It's got great… colors."

She snatched them out of my hands and flicked the wolf photo back at me with such force that bounded off my chest and onto the floor. "Yeah. Sometimes Sakura, I don't know why I even…"

Ino didn't end the sentence, just shook her head. I didn't get it. Did she want me to pretend to like the other photos better than the one of my wolf?

"Hello! Anyone Home?" It was Kiba, Ino's older brother, sparing me from the consequences of whatever I'd done to irritate Ino. He grinned at me from the front hall, shutting the door behind him. "Hey good-looking."

Ino looked up from her seat at the kitchen table with a frosty expression. "I _hope _you're talking about me."

"Of course," Kiba said, looking at me. He was handsome in a very conventional way: tall, dark-haired like his sister, but with a face quick to smile and befriend. "It would be in very bad taste to hit on your sister's best friend. So. It's four o'clock. How time flies when you're" - he paused, looking Ino leaning over the table with a pile of photographs and me across from her with another stack - "doing nothing. Can't you do nothing by yourselves?"

Ino silently straightened up her pile of photos while I explained, "we're introverts. We like doing nothing together. All talk, no action."

"Sounds fascinating. Ino, we've got to leave now if you want to make it to your lesson." He punched my arm lightly. "Hey, why don't you come with us, Sakura? Are your parents home?"

I snorted. "Are you kidding? I'm raising myself. I should get a head of household bonus on my taxes." Kiba laughed, probably more than my comment warranted, and Ino shot me a look imbued with enough venom to kill small animals. I shut up.

"Come one, Ino," said Kiba, seemingly oblivious to the daggers flying from his sister's eyes. "You pay for the lesson whether you get there or not. You coming, Sakura?"

I looked out the window, and for the first time in months, I imagined disappearing into the trees and running until I found my wolf in a summer wood. I shook my head. "Not this time. Rain check?"

Kiba flashed a lopsided smile at me. "Yep come on, Ino. Bye, good-looking. You know who to call if you're looking for some action with your talk."

Ino swung her backpack at him; made a solid _thuk _as it hit his body. But it was who got the dark look again, like I'd done anything to encourage Kiba's flirting. "Go. Just go. Bye, Sakura."

I showed them to the door and then returned aimlessly to the kitchen. A pleasantly neutral voice followed me, an announcer on NPR describing the classical piece I'd just heard and introducing another; Dad had left the radio on in his study next to the kitchen. Somehow, the sounds of my parents' presence only highlighted their absence. Knowing that dinner would be canned beans unless I made it, I rummaged in the fridge and put a pot of leftover soup on the stove to simmer until my parents got home.

I stood in the kitchen, illuminated by the slanting cool afternoon light through the deck door, feeling sorry for myself, I hadn't seen my wolf in person since that day I'd touched him, nearly a week ago, and even though I knew it shouldn't, his absence still stabbed. It was stupid, the way I needed his phantom at the edge of the yard to feel complete. Stupid but completely incurable.

I went to the back door and opened it, wanting to smell the woods. I padded out onto the deck in my sock feet and leaned against the railing.

If I hadn't gone outside, I don't know if I would have heard the scream.

**Finally! It's about time I got this done. Lol. But hey I hope you guys enjoyed it. It took me forever to get this done cause I was in school a lot and I was in my schools musical that got over with a couple of weeks ago. Plus stress is a major hazard here in life. But o well. Same old same old you know? Please review and comment on it plz. By the way Kakashi and Rin in this story are old classmates. Plus if there is any miss types in here please let me know and I will fix it asap. Oh ya before I forget the people who play the mom and dad to Sakura are Tsunade and Jiraya. I had a poll about the dad and Jiraya won it.**


	11. Chapter Nine Sakura

Chapter Nine – Sakura

58* F

From the distance beyond the trees, the scream came again. For a second I thought it was a howl, and then the cry resolved itself into words: "Help! Help!"

I _swore _the voice sounded like Garra Subaku's.

But that was impossible. I was just imagining it, remembering it from the cafeteria, where it had always seemed to carry over the others around him as he catcalled girls in the hallway.

Still, I followed the sound of the voice, moving impulsively across the yard and through the trees. The ground was damp and prickly through my sock feet; I was clumsier without my shoes. The crashing of my own steps through fallen leaves and tangled brush drowned out any other sounds. I hesitated, listening. The voice was gone, replaced by just a whimper, distinctly animal-sounding, and then by silence.

The relative safety of the backyard was far behind me now. I stood for a long moment, listening for any indication of where the first scream had come from. I knew I hadn't imagined it.

But there was nothing but silence. And in that silence, the smell of the woods seeped under my skin and reminded me of him. Crushed pine needles and wet earth and wood smoke.

I didn't care how idiotic it was. I'd come into the woods this far. Going a little farther to try to see my wolf again wouldn't hurt anybody. I retreated to the house, just long enough to get my shoes, and headed back out into the cool autumn day. There was a bite behind the breeze that promised winter, but the sun shone bright, and under the shelter of the trees, the air was warm with the memory of hot days not so long ago.

All around me, leaves were dying gorgeously in red and orange; crows cawed to each other overhead in a vibrant, ugly soundtrack. I hadn't been this far into these woods since I was eleven, when I'd awoken surrounded by wolves, but strangely, I didn't feel afraid.

I stepped carefully, avoiding the little streams that snaked through the underbrush. This should have been unfamiliar territory, but I felt confident, assured. Silently guided, as though by a weird sixth sense, I followed the same worn paths that the wolves used over and over again.

Of course I knew it wasn't really a sixth sense. It was just me, acknowledging that there was more to my sense than I normally let on. I gave in to them and they became efficient, sharpened. As it reached me, the breeze seemed to carry the information of a stack of maps, telling me which animals had traveled where and how long ago. My ears picked up faint sounds that before had gone unnoticed: the rustling of a twig as a bird built a nest overhead, the soft step of a deer dozens of feet away.

I felt like I was home.

The woods rang with an unfamiliar cry, out of place in this world. I hesitated, listening. The whimper came again, louder than before.

Rounding a pine a tree, I came upon the source: three wolves. It was the white wolf and the black pack leader; the sight of the she-wolf made my stomach twist with nerves. The two of them had pounced on a third wolf, a scraggly young male with an almost-blue tint to his gray coat and an ugly, healing wound on his shoulder. The other two wolves were pinning him to the leafy ground in a show of dominance; they all froze when they saw me. The pinned male twisted his head to stare at me, eyes entreating. My heart thudded in my chest. I knew those eyes. I remembered them from school; I remembered the fro the local news.

"Garra?" I whispered.

The pinned wolf whistled pitifully through his nostrils. I just kept staring at those eyes. Hazel. Did wolves have hazel eyes? Maybe they did. Why did they look so wrong? As I stared at them, that one word just kept singing through my head: _human, human, human._

With a snarl in my direction, the she-wolf let him up. She snapped at his side, pushing him away from me. Her eyes were on me the entire time, daring me to stop her, and something in me told me tha maybe I should have tried. But by the time my thoughts stopped spinning and I remembered the pocketknife in my jeans, the three wolves were already dark smudges in the distant trees.

Without the wolf's eyes before, I had to wonder if I'd imagined the likeness to Garra's. After all, it had been two weeks since I'd seen Garra in person, and I'd never really paid close attention to him. I could have been misremembering his eyes. What was I thinking, anyway? That he'd turned into a wolf?

I let out a deep breath. Actually, that _was _what I was thinking. I didn't think I had forgotten Garra's eyes. Or his voice. And I hadn't imagined the human scream or the deepest howl. I just knew it was Garra, in the way I'd known how to find my way through the trees.

There was a knot in my stomach. Nerves. Anticipation. I didn't think Garra was the only secret these woods held.

That night I lay in bed and stared at the window, my blinds pulled up so I could see the night sky. One thousand brilliant stars punched holes in my consciousness, pricking me with longing. I could stare at the stars for hours, their infinite number and depth pulling me into a part of myself that I ignored during the day.

Outside, deep in the woods, I heard a long, keening wail, and then another, as the wolves began to howl. More voices pitched in, some low and mournful, others high and short, and eerie and beautiful chorus. I knew my wolf's howl; his rich tone sang out above the others as if begging me to hear it.

My heart ached inside me, torn between wanting them to stop and wishing they would go on forever. I imagined myself there among them in the golden wood, watching them tilt their heads back and howl underneath a sky of endless stars. I blinked a tear away, feeling foolish and miserable, but I didn't go to sleep until I every wolf had fallen silent.

**Well there you have it! Chapter Nine is up and done for you all to read. LOL. If you have any questions, concerns, or comments don't hesitate to send me a message or something. well until next time folks! **

**P.S don't forget to R&R. thanks a bunch! And if there is any mistakes please let me know a.s.a.p.**


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